


Long Way from Home

by butchdeloria



Category: Fallout - Fandom, Fallout New Vegas, fnv
Genre: Idle mentions of drinking, M/M, Old Age, Seriously a lot of fucking swearing, Smoking, Some gentle hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 12:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9897467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butchdeloria/pseuds/butchdeloria
Summary: Something I wrote as a vent piece. Francisco and Raul have been traveling companions for awhile now. The others are away while they have a moment to themselves.





	

Finding a decent place to stop and rest could be a pain in the ass in the Mojave. Especially if you’re trying to find something with a good view- something nice to watch and pass the time. Everything around is so goddamn flat. Miles and miles of dust and rock far as the eye can see, and beyond that? More fucking dust and rock. Only thing worth looking at is the sky at night. At dusk the lights from New Vegas perform a silent dance on the horizon, trying to call one and all to the glittering limelight. Unfortunately, the novelty of it only lasted so long. After a few years even that became nothing more than another eyesore.

For months, Francisco and Raul had been searching for a good perch to sit and throw back beers from. Both of them old in their own way, though Raul did like to remind Francisco about the centuries he had on him in that regard, but military men in the wasteland usually didn’t live to be as old as Francisco. Francisco hardly thought about it, constantly dodging memories of his past before he took up a job at Mojave Express. 

Shit, even he’d stopped counting the birthdays back when he fought for the NCR. The new recruits would away say- fuck what was it they used to say- whatever. He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember shit; not since that fuckhead shot him in Goodsprings. 

Right, the man in the checkered suit, that was just another thing on his list of shit to deal with. Christ, there’s always shit to deal with.

His thoughts were getting scattered again. 

“Good view, eh?” Raul asked from Francisco’s left, “This place is better than the last one.”

“Huh?” Francisco shifted in his seat, staring down at the dirt that’d worked it’s way into the beds of his fingernails. 

Raul sighed, unzipping his jumpsuit to reach for the pack of cigarettes nestled within his inside pocket, “Said, ‘Good View, eh?’” 

He huffed, “‘S a shit view Raul... ‘s always a shit view.” Francisco raised his head, using his hand to beat a cloud of dust from his jacket- not that it’d help any. 

“Oh I know, just trying to take your mind off whatever’s on it. Knowing you, could be anything.”

Francisco adjusted his cap, tilting it just enough to get the fucking sun out of his eyes. “I was thinkin’ we ain’t ever gonna find a good view of nothin’. This was a fun game at first, now it’s just fuckin’...” he sighed, rubbing at the dark crescents beneath his eyes. 

Raul placed a cigarette between his lips, giving the lighter a few flicks. “Here Boss.”

“Mmh, thanks,” Francisco accepted the lit cigarette from Raul, not minding the brush of the ghoul’s rough hand against his own. “Wanna hear somethin’ funny?” He asked, taking a long drag.

“Sure.”

“Used to tell myself I wasn’t addicted to these things,” he let the smoke pass out his nostrils with a sigh. “Cause I never wanted them, they were just good,” he shook his head, leaning back into the three they sat beneath. “After awhile, just seemed normal. Things get too shitty? Take a smoke break. Get shot in the fuckin’ head? Take a smoke break. Arcade and Veronica yellin’ at each other? Take a smoke break.”

Raul nodded along, lighting up one of his own, “They sure do get into it over... shit- what was it last time?”

“Something about- I don’t know. They’re smarter than I am. Can rebuild anythin’ but can’t figure out what the fuck they’re on about when they get into the-” he made a vague gesture with his hand.

“Science shit.”

“Yeah.” Francisco paused, taking a few silent puffs from the cigarette. He ashed it with a flick of his thumb, “What I was tryin’ to say is… I dunno when I settled.”

“Settled?”

“For this… leavin’ the NCR to be a courier and all-”

“Way I heard it you didn’t exactly choose to leave.” 

Francisco’s eyes ghosted over his left leg, “Yeah well.” He cleared his throat, turning his eyes away. “Coulda stayed ‘n filed papers or somethin’.” It didn’t ache so much today. In fact, it usually didn’t ache so much when Raul was around.

Raul snorted, “You’d have been no use to anyone filing papers. I’ve seen your handwriting. It leaves too much to the imagination.”

“Fuck you,” he squinted over at Raul from the corners of his eyes.

“Oh, Boss. I’m a little too old for that.”

Francisco sucked his teeth, reaching down for his beer to wash out the taste of ash, if only for a moment. “You gonna let me finish my fuckin’ thing or are you gonna interrupt me like you always do?”

“Hey, I’m just passing along the necessary information. You keep leaving out important parts of your story.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Besides, you’ve been talking so much lately, my ears would fall off if they could.”

“They already have.”

“That’s what I’m saying, but go on. Finish your monologue. I have to know how it ends now.”

“I’m just,” he pinched at the bridge of his nose, “just so fucking tired. We all know I’ve been wakin’ up more ‘n more lately having to be reminded of where I am and what the fucks goin’ on. The ringing in my ears never stops, and on days when I can walk for long enough to be useful it seems like it just ain’t enough. I swear, you ‘n Arcade are goin’ to be replacin’ me with parts soon. ‘M not as sturdy as I used to be.” He hesitated, “Ah, fuck. This is- just ignore me. Look at me. Whining to a ghoul about my health.”

“You think we’re going to replace you for someone shiny?” Raul asked, edge of caution lining is voice.. 

“No. I just think you’d all be better off if you did,” said plainly. 

“Well shit, now that we got your permission, where you do you suggest we start looking?”

Francisco groaned, “’M bein’ serious. I can’t be of use for much longer. Once I finish this thing, that’s it for me.”

Raul squinted into the distance for a few moments, head tilted to the side. Finally, he said, “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t say that, Boss. ‘Cause I know if I did hear something like that, it’d mean you’d be leaving a whole lot of people without a family, or the closest thing they got to it anyway. I know you wouldn’t say some shit like that to the younger kids.” 

“You know they’d-”

“Fucking lose it is right. I used to have a big family back home in Mexico. Know what we used to when things got tough for one of us?”

Francisco swallowed hard, throat dry, “What?”

“Carry them. That’s what family does for each other. I know you’ve said you never really had one, so you better start learning because I don’t see any of them walking off without trying to fight you over it.”

His gaze dropped back down to his hands, suddenly far more interested in his cuticles than meeting Raul’s eyes, “C’mon, that’s shit. ‘M not worth all that.”

“You outta try telling them that. See what they have to say.”

Francisco shifted his legs, bringing his knees up to rest his hands against them. His cigarette dangled idly from the corner of his lips. He blinked slowly, letting out a few puffs of smoke. His body didn’t feel any less tense since he sat down, but something did feel different. Something in the talk of family shook loose what’d been teetering on the edge for so long. 

Family.

He’d never thought of it that way before. Was that what they were? A big band of misfits and their dog? They were the definition of unconventional, that’s for sure. 

He sat there, Raul remaining silent and letting him think it over for awhile. Francisco felt grateful for that, a moment of pause to reconsider whatever ultimatums he’d managed to convince himself of. 

“Hey, uh… thanks.”

Raul shrugged, “Don’t mention it.”

Recently, something in his chest would flare up whenever he parted ways with Raul at the end of the day. Something he didn’t quite put effort into identifying. It’d started sneaking up on him in the middle of their conversations, now for instance. Not… uncomfortable- just unfamiliar, tempting his thoughts to drift curiously toward it. No, it’d been far too long for him to be considering that. He wouldn’t be able to keep up with it, focus on it. Shit, he barely wanted to now. What with it rattling around inside the hollow of his-

“Your leg acting up again Boss?”

“Huh?” Frankie reached to move his cigarette, gaze following Raul’s. Apparently he’d been squeezing his leg in his thoughts. “Oh, fuck. I dunno. Just habit I guess.”

“My burns gave me hell after too. Sometimes I’d lie around thinking I was still on fire. Wake up in the night trying to put it out but there’d be nothing there. Just the marks as a reminder, the pain as a punishment.” 

“Raul you-”

“Yeah, I know. Couldn’t do anything. I remember saying the same thing to you too not too long ago.”

Francisco frowned, turning back to watch the horizon. Goddamnit, he always had to be fucking right. 

“Don’t really feel them anymore, what with everything else being shitty now too. Gets too hard to tell the difference between everything.”

“Almost makes the chems seem worth it.”

Raul laughed, “Almost. But if I went that way I’d start falling apart like those other ghouls do.”

“Yeah, me too,” Frankie agreed absentmindedly. He went to take another drag, only to find the thing had burned out.

“Need another one?” 

Francisco put out the cherry in the dirt, “Yeah.” The feeling twisted inside him. 

Raul moved to light up a second one. A quick glance told Frankie he’d been holding it at the ready. Did he always go through them that fast? He made a mental note to slow down once in awhile.

“You see a lot, for a guy who claims he can’t see shit.”

“And you talk a lot for a guy who claims he’s quiet. Guess we’re both not men of our word.”

“Guess not,” Francisco mumbled, mulling his thoughts over in the back of his mind.

“Here,” Raul said, extending the second cigarette to Francisco. 

Francisco’s fingers caught the cigarette, not pulling it from Raul’s grasp. He licked his lips, head turning to face the ghoul. “What else do you see, Raul?”

Raul’s hand steadied, knuckles pressing gently into Francisco’s. The skin of his forehead pulled up in surprise, but slowly relaxed. “Ah… I see plenty,” his cloudy eyes returned Francisco’s gaze. “I see enough to know.”

His heart laid bare between them, “Yeah? Enough to know and you still-”

“Of course, Boss.”

“Call me Francisco.”

Raul’s mouth pulled into a lopsided grin, “Sure thing, Paco.”

Francisco mirrored the expression, “No one’s called me that in years.” He pulled away with the cigarette, bringing it in for a drag. 

“Oh, well in that case if you’d prefer to not be called that Bo-” The look Francisco gave him made him stop with a small chuckle.

The two shifted, each pretending to be doing their own thing until they’d settled in beside each other, shoulders and sides growing warm from where they touched. Neither would say a word, not wanting to break the easiness of it. 

Francisco let out a long exhale, “Y’know,” he said, “sunset isn’t all that bad tonight.”

“No,” Raul reached over, stealing Francisco’s half-finished beer to hide his smile, “it isn’t.”


End file.
